


1991

by transmarkcohen



Category: Rent - Larson
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, Flashbacks, M/M, diegetic time
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 06:09:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29837220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transmarkcohen/pseuds/transmarkcohen
Summary: 1991Mark likes his friends. Sure, things can be crazy at times, but they're all there for each other.2005Mark knows what diegetic time is. But now, his whole life feels like it's being unraveled, the middle before the end, the end before the beginning.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	1991

**Author's Note:**

  * For [anothergayrentfan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anothergayrentfan/gifts).



**1991 **

"Are you coming?" Mimi turned back to look at Mark, trying to make sure he was walking with her and Roger. He wasn't. He was fidgeting with his camera yet _again.  
_

"Sure," he said distractedly. 

"Okay!" Mimi flounced off in the direction of the loft, not thinking anything was wrong, or at least not paying enough attention to know something was. Roger fell back into step with Mark on the street. 

"What's going on?" he asked, concerned for his best friend. 

"Nothing." Mark shook his head. "It's...no, it's fine, really. It's not that big of a deal." 

Roger waited for Mark to say more. After a few moments, he prompted, "...then what is it?" 

"Uh…" Mark focused and refocused the lens. It made a teeth-grindingly annoying noise. That was it. Roger knew something was deeply, deeply wrong. 

"Mark, what happened?" 

Mark sighed. "Um...ask Maureen." 

"What?" 

"I'm gonna go catch up with Mimi! Bye!" Mark ran off ahead of Roger, who was getting rather annoyed at his friend's evasive answers. He sighed, gearing up to run, feet pounding as he breathed heavily. He still wasn't used to this after seven months of sitting around the house, doing absolutely nothing. 

He finally caught up with them just as someone tapped his shoulder. He whirled around, ready to take the would-be mugger out, and discovered it was just Maureen. He sighed in relief. 

"Maureen!" he said, laughing out of fear. "Shit, man! I didn't know it was you, you're so much shorter than me!" 

Maureen smiled. "Yeah," she said. She handed Roger a can of cheap beer, who gratefully took it. "Stay out here a while? Mark and Mimi will be there." 

"Sure." 

The two sat on the steps in front of the old apartment building that had been a music studio for thirty years before they'd moved in. Built in...1947? Was that right? Roger took a sip of his beer. 

_Right. Maureen._ Whatever Mark was going through had to do with Maureen. He turned to her, noticing how she shone in the lamplight. The flies buzzing around it bothered him. Never mind them. He could deal with that later. 

"Hey, uh...what the fuck is wrong with Mark?" he asked, immediately regretting that he didn't have better social skills. But again, seven months stuck in your house and one month actually going out will do that to you. 

"Oh, how he's been acting all weird lately?" Maureen threw her head back and downed her can of cheap beer. "Yeah, he got me pregnant. It was a while ago though. Baby's fine, off with some upstate family." She threw the empty beer can at the garbage can. It missed and clanged against the side, rolling off on the sidewalk. Maureen watched it go. 

Roger's beer can cracked loudly in his hands. He was so startled that his hand had tightened around it, and he'd just froze. "He... _what?"_ Roger asked, shocked. 

Maureen laughed. "Yeah, why's that so surprising?" 

"I don't…" He placed his half-full beer can on the ground. "I thought I would've noticed." 

"April was dead." Roger cringed at that. "You were in the loft all the time. It would've been a miracle if you noticed anyone _besides_ Mark." 

"Still…" 

"Really, Roger, it's fine," Maureen told him, exasperated, standing up. She extended a hand. "I'm not pregnant anymore, the baby's with some WASP-y family being spoiled rotten, and Mark's always like a nervous gazelle. Come on in, will you? There's nothing to worry about." 

Roger hesitated, then took her hand and nodded. 

"Okay," he said, following Maureen into the loft. 

**2005**

More loss. Will I ever get used to it? It's been ten years since Roger died. 

And now…

God. 

_Maureen_ is gone. And I watched her die. 

A call from my son waits on the answering machine. I don't pick it up. He'll know. 

There is so much quiet. The curtains waving gently, being blown by the wind, the cars outside that the dogs being walked by people will occasionally bark at, the children running up and down the street… all of it is quiet. None of it happy. Not for me, at least. I think of the many directions my life could have gone in and I am deeply, deeply depressed. 

I realize I'm not that old. But with so much loss and grief filling up the span of my lifetime, thirty-five years feels like one hundred and thirty-five. 

The first death was Mimi's. The poor kid. Sure, I was only two years older than her, but she always felt like the baby of the friend group. She nearly died once but got back up and then…two months later, the illness won. 

I miss her so much. So does Roger.

Sorry, so did Roger. 

You see why I feel like I'm old? I have all the ghosts of my past that shouldn't be

there. 

I remember everyone as if they were still alive. As they should be. 


End file.
